


something i've wanted all along

by VeloxVoid



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dedue Molinaro Needs a Hug, Feelings Realization, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Healing, Injury Recovery, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Major Character Injury, Near Death Experiences, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Romantic Fluff, Short & Sweet, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29142948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeloxVoid/pseuds/VeloxVoid
Summary: It is when brutally injured and on the verge of death that Dedue realises he loves Ashe Ubert. He tries to speak — to confess before it's too late — but he can't.Luckily for him, Ashe saves his life. During recovery, Dedue has to confront his feelings.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert & Dedue Molinaro, Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 10
Kudos: 27





	something i've wanted all along

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written as part of the [Ashedue Storybook](https://twitter.com/ashduestorybook) — a Fire Emblem zine dedicated to Ashe and Dedue!
> 
> I'm [VeloxVoid](https://twitter.com/VeloxVoid) on Twitter if you'd like to follow me for more. I'm currently taking a break for my mental health but I should be back fairly soon :)

Pain burst beneath Dedue’s ribs — a blinding, white-hot pain that consumed his existence. His axe fell from his grip, the enemy before him dissipated into blackness, and he felt himself slipping.

_This is it._

He slipped from the realm of Fódlan, through the grips of consciousness, down under. Down to somewhere where there was no war — where there was no pain — where perfect tranquility reigned.

He felt almost comforted, until a voice filtered through his moribund haze. It echoed in garbled nonsense, but the tone was light. Delicate. _Beautiful._

The words swam through to him until they were audible. "It's okay," Ashe murmured in a wavering voice. Something was pressed into Dedue's side, making pain shoot agonisingly through his wound. "You're alright."

"Ashe," Dedue heard himself splutter in response.

_Ashe._

He needed to confess to Ashe; he needed to tell him. Before he died, he wanted Ashe to know.

A hot, metallic fluid cascaded from his throat as he spoke. “I… I love—”

“Shh…” Ashe pushed onto his wound harder, making fireworks explode beneath Dedue’s eyelids. He was lured back down into the abyss of oblivion.

* * *

The next thing he felt was softness. A comforting embrace all around him that he sank into. Pain still blossomed through his ribs, but it was hazy. Far-away — distant — as though he were experiencing it through a layer of padding.

He was warm. Another body was pressed against his uninjured side, unmoving, effusing a soothing aura.

All felt right. Here, surrounded by warmth, his wound healing, with this presence beside him, things were almost perfect. _Almost._

It was through his waning wakefulness, however, that one word came to Dedue’s mind — sharp and sudden: an arrowhead of realisation.

_Ashe._

He scrabbled in an attempt to sit up, hands sliding on the plushness all around him. The agony returned then, shooting caustic veins of fire to lick through his wound, making him cry out.

Ashe needed to be okay. He needed to be alive — protected — and Dedue needed to find him.

His vision appeared in a grey-white blur as he opened his eyes, his voice like gravel. “Ashe!” he cried, but choked not a moment after. “Ashe—!”

The presence next to him roused, grasped onto Dedue’s shoulders with delicate hands. “Hey, it’s okay!” they said, audibly panicked. But that voice was not just anybody’s. That voice was perfection — the only thing Dedue needed.

His overridden brain began to calm, his hyperventilated breathing slowing with his heart rate. The mist before his eyes settled as he focused on the face — on the slim, pale, freckled face of Ashe Ubert before him. Dusky grey hair fell into his eyes, dishevelled and tangled. He flicked it out of the way with a shake of his head, but Dedue’s hand worked its way into the tresses to muss it up again. No amount of soft, silky pillows beneath him could compare to the feeling of this hair. It was velvet against his fingertips — the most precious material in the world.

“You’re okay,” he breathed, and watched a pink tinge mottle Ashe’s bloodless cheeks. That was all he wanted. “You’re alive.”

“I am,” Ashe mumbled beneath a tight-lipped smile. “And so are you.”

As if realising what he was doing, Ashe took his hands away from Dedue’s shoulders, placing them in his lap. Dedue’s gaze pulled away from him slightly and their surroundings came into view. The room they were in was dark, with wooden walls and flooring; the only light flooded in from a window opposite — bright milky white from the clouded sky. Dedue lay on a double bed covered in furs, dressed in his blood-soaked underclothes, with Ashe kneeling next to him.

“You were sleeping beside me?” asked Dedue, the thought stirring butterflies in the pit of his stomach.

Ashe’s blush grew more intense. “I’m so sorry, I…” His eyelashes fluttered lightly, looking as if they were beating back tears. Gold flecks shone through the chartreuse of his irises, glimmering with passion. “I was so scared… I couldn’t lose you, Dedue.”

Dedue felt himself smile, fighting off a grimace as his wound pulsated with pain once more. _I couldn’t lose you, either,_ he thought, a fluttering sensation becoming alight inside of him.

Love. The overwhelming, swelling sensation of pure adoration he felt for the younger man. It was light — tingling in his chest in a way that felt like the warming effects of mulled wine. _‘Love’_ had always been described to him, through childhood stories and fairytales, as being unable to imagine your life without your paramour; as wanting to die with them by your side.

That was one thing he was sure of. He had been sure of it after receiving his wound — the confession of it had been his dying breath. He loved Ashe Ubert.

He had almost died, but somehow, he didn’t care. He was alive, Ashe was alive, and that was all that mattered.

“Thank you for saving my life.” He reached out one hand, gently cupping Ashe’s jaw. He leaned into it, his skin almost feverishly hot against Dedue’s palm, seeming to leech the pain from out of his ribs. Healing him.

“I couldn’t let you die,” Ashe said. “Not ever.”

“Likewise. I couldn’t live without you, Ashe.”

Ashe’s eyes widened. “I couldn’t live without you either.”

The next words uttered left the throats of both men.

 _“I love you,”_ they said together.

Despite the war around them — the stranger’s house they sheltered in, the cusp of death they’d barely escaped from — Ashe and Dedue fell into one another’s arms. Finally, Dedue could hold him — protect him; he could breathe in his soft, sleepy scent and let himself drown in it. Tears began to fall, but wrapped up in each other’s embrace, it didn’t matter.

Ashe loved him back, and that was all Dedue needed.


End file.
